


His Waking Nightmare

by Alanna_Grey



Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Multi, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29525373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alanna_Grey/pseuds/Alanna_Grey
Summary: "One day Eliot, you're gonna be too old, too slow to protect them." Moreau suddenly appears, seeking revenge. Eliot's worse nightmare comes to pass.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	His Waking Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little fic that I wrote a while ago. It's not super romantic/ ship oriented, but they are still OT3 :P

There it was again, nagging at the back of his mind. Something someone had said to him recently.  _ One day Eliot, you're gonna be too old, too slow to protect them. What are you gonna do when you watch as they die because you were unable to do your job?  _ He had punched the guy out at that point. They had managed to take him down. But the words stuck with him. What about that one day? He tried to shake it from his mind and concentrate on the now.

Eliot sat in a dark theatre watching the actors on the stage. This wasn't his scene, but Nate had asked them to come. It was Sophie's first play on Broadway. Thankfully she wasn't on the stage herself, she was the director. That was the only reason he had agreed to come. Plus it was the first time all five of them were to meet up since Nate had proposed. Parker was especially excited to talk to him, about planning stuff he guessed. She was good, but Nate was the best, and they had only been solo for a few months.

He glanced to his left at the blond woman sitting beside him. She watched, mesmerized as the actor flew around the stage. The plot was about a jewel heist, the set was a huge thing of poles and levels. The actors were using gear Eliot suspected was quite similar to what Parker had in her warehouse as they swung and dropped and climbed.

The actors finally bowed and the curtains dropped. The lights came up in the audience and the patrons filed out to shake hands and meet the actors waiting in the atrium. The trio kept their seats until the main doors closed and the curtain lifted again. Standing front and center stage with her arms spread wide was Sophie Devereaux. That was her director name at least.

“Well,” Her soft British accent rang around the empty stage. “What did you think?”

Hardison stood up and clapped. “Well done. That was just.. Mmm. Yeah.”

Parker jumped up. “Oh, Sophie. That was awesome! With the swinging and rappelling! Reminds me of that time in San Monico.”

“Mmhhm” Sophie smiled knowingly. “Did I mention I also helped write it?”

Nate appeared at the side of the stage. “Well actually, I helped write it. You just helped move the message.” He rubbed his nose and looked down a bit, a cheeky grin played at his lips.

“Tomato tomauto” Sophie replied with a shrug, smiling.

There was the distinct sound of a click of a gun. 

“I do agree, Sophie Devereaux. Well done on the play.”

Damien Moreau appeared from the curtains on the opposite side of the stage as Nate. 

Eliot jumped up and to the middle of the aisle. His fists hard at his sides, waiting to see what Moreau was up to. Everyone seemed as tense as he was, holding their breaths. 

“Moreau. What are you doing here.” Nate's voice was calm but there was no mistaking the hard edge to it. 

“Oh, so you do remember me. I thought you had forgotten when you locked me in that hell pit in San Lorenzo.” His face twisted with rage on the last few words. 

Men appeared around the room. Everything happened so fast. One came up behind Nate and handcuffed him to one of the poles of the set before backing away again. Eliot was already on his way when the shot rang out. Sophie’s eyes went wide with shock as her white blouse stained red at an alarming rate. Her hand pressed to her stomach but did little to stop the blood. 

“NNNOOOO!!!” Nate screamed and pulled on the handcuff to try and reach his wife. 

“After that mediocre performance back in San Lorenzo, I thought we could properly reenact the scene of your death.” Moreau's voice was calm, as if reviewing a play. 

Sophie crumpled to her knees, the look of shock still on her face, but turning to face her husband. “Nate.” Blood gurgled up as she coughed out his name. The word sounded liquidy as blood filled her mouth. 

Eliot looked to Nate again. The handcuff dug into his wrist as he tugged against it . Blood streamed down his hand and dripped off his fingers. Tears streamed down his face and he called her name over and over, his voice desperate, pleading with her. 

Sophie fell to the ground, laying on her back, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. She was going to die, but not before an agonising long time. 

Parker had pushed past him, barreling down the aisle to get to Sophie. She only made it halfway before men grabbed her and held tight as she struggled against them. 

Eliot stepped toward her when he heard the muffled sound of struggle just behind him. He turned to see more men holding Hardison. One had shoved a clear plastic bag over his head and was taping it closed around his neck. Eliot could see Hardison's eyes bulging as he desperately fought for breath. His hands erratically clawing at his attackers and his neck. Fear and panic written all over his face as he stared Eliot in the eye; silently begging for help.

The hitter took a step forward when he heard a blood chilling scream behind him. He whipped around to see one of the men holding a taser to Parker. She spasmed as electricity coursed through her body. When it was removed she sagged against the arms of her captor. 

Moreau walked across the stage toward Nate, careful to step over Sophie’s body. 

“Did you really think you could lock me away forever? That I wouldn't find a way out and decimate you?” he asked Nate coldly. 

The other man had fallen to his knees, still shackled to the spot. 

“Do you know how long I’ve had to plan how to kill you all?”

Parker’s scream rang out through the hall again. 

As long as she screamed, it meant she was alive. Eliot dashed up the few stairs separating him from Hardison. He took out the guards, but they were all well trained. It seemed like forever by the time he knocked the last one out. He scrambled to undo the tape around Hardison's neck, but the man wasn't moving. 

“Dammit Hardison. Stay with me.” he growled. 

He pulled the bag off, but it was too late. Hardison’s wide, dead eyes stared up at him blankly. Fear and pain was the last expression on his face. 

Parker's scream stopped. Eliot whirled to see the men drop her body in a crumpled heap on the floor. “NOOOOO!” he yelled as he ran to her body. He knelt to check her pulse but didn't find one. Her messy hair obscured her face; he didn't want to see her expression. 

He looked up to the stage to see Moreau standing over Nate, the gun inches from Nate's skull. Nate's arm hung loose against the handcuff buried deep in his wrist. All the fight had left his body as he looked up at the man they had once taken down. 

“You'll never get away with this. The people would have heard and the cops will be on their way.”

“This is a soundproof theater. We will be long gone by the time anyone ever finds you. Nobody will ever catch me again.” Moreau pulled the trigger. Another deafening bang went off as he shot Nate between the eyes. His body fell back as if in slow motion, blood and skull fragments sprayed on the curtain behind him. 

Eliot stared as Moreau turned to him last. He felt the cold metal of a gun barrel press against the base of his skull. 

“Goodbye Eliot.”

Eliot jolted awake with a gasp. He stared at the ceiling; heart racing and he gasped for breath. He was covered in a cold sweat and his body felt shaky. 

“Oh god” He murmured, rubbing one hand across his eyes to rid his vision of the nightmare. He could still see Hardison's cold, staring eyes and Parker's small, crumpled form.

He propped himself on his elbows to breathe easier and glanced to his left. Beside him Parker and Hardison lay peacefully. Still alive. Hardison’s gentle snores filled the small hotel room but Parker's eyes peered up and him concerned. 

“Hey, it's okay.” Her voice was so soft and soothing “He's still behind bars. We can call your General friend tomorrow.” She reached up and brushed a strand of sweat dampened hair from his face. 

Taking a couple deep breaths he replied. “Yeah. Okay. Let's do that.” His normally gruff voice had more than a twinge of softness to it. 

He laid back down on the bed and rolled on his side, facing Parker. She turned away from him but snuggled a bit closer to him, so her back was pressed against him. He wrapped his arm around the slender woman, her warm body and steady breath already reassuring him. She rested her arm and hand on his, entwining her fingers with his. Eliot stretched his other arm under both Parker and Hardison's necks. He could feel the other man's deep steady breath tickled slightly against his fingers. 

They didn't always end up sharing a room, but right now, he was glad they had tonight. 

“Parker, promise me you won't leave me.”

She squeezed his hand gently. “Never. We are in this together.”


End file.
